


A Black Devotion, Rotten and All-Consuming

by Atroposisms



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Jealousy, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Reader-Insert, Smut, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unrequited Love, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:28:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atroposisms/pseuds/Atroposisms
Summary: It was a joke, he said, admittedly one in poor taste. A joke to disguise the twisted mass of desire burning within him, just barely hidden beneath the surface.
Relationships: Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Asmodeus/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 573





	A Black Devotion, Rotten and All-Consuming

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Cider](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cervidcell/profile) and Ven for reading over the draft and giving me notes.

_ Maybe I should go ahead and gobble you up, right here and now… Your body, your mind, it would all be mine. _

It had been a poor, jealousy-driven ‘joke’ when he had made those comments to you. Comments that took even himself by surprise as he said them - vicious, violent words that fell from his mouth with the same ease as his ostentatious flirting. And truth be told, in that moment, he meant them. 

(Some joke.)

There was a possessiveness that he rarely felt, as free-spirited towards matters of lust and love as he was, and an all-consuming, terrifying desire to make a claim on you. No, not just make a  _ claim _ on you. To mark you in a way that would ensure all of his other brothers - particularly Mammon - would respect, and would then leave you alone. 

It was desire, twisting and pulsing and writhing deep in his belly. But a desire that coiled in on itself, distorted and coated with ugly thoughts and wants, covered in scuttling, segmented legs. And ugliness of any kind was simply not something that he could abide by. So, Asmodeus put  _ those _ feelings aside, tried not to think about it too much.

You didn’t seem to put much stock in his comments, thankfully. There had been a little flare of alarm in your eyes when he had said them - of course, who  _ wouldn’t _ be concerned when a demon threatened you? - but it seemed that you had taken to the Devildom quite well, and it hadn’t bothered you as much as he thought (feared? hoped?) it would. 

You stared at him, expression caught somewhere between alarm and a smile. He laughed, said it was a joke. You relaxed, and grinned.

(Just a joke, right? Right.)

The next day, things had returned to normal between the two of you - him flirting, and you returning in kind or playfully rebuffing. Everything was  _ fine _ , everything was  _ normal _ \- or as normal as one could expect of a human living in the Devildom. You went to school, you did homework. You hung out with the brothers every now and then, with Asmodeus trying to spend as much time with you as he could, taking you on shopping trips and what he liked to think of as dates to the newest restaurants and patisseries, and on the rare occasion to a club.

Still. Every now and then, a piece of kindling would be tossed onto the small embers of the fire of his desire for you, stoking the flame ever hotter and higher.

That additional fuel usually took the form of seeing Mammon clumsily flirt with you, the oh-so-obvious attempts at draping his arm around your shoulder or waist, the ever-annoying possessive comments about how he was your  _ first _ , trying his best to drag you into his bed or take his place in yours - 

Not that it would work (truly, who would pick Mammon?) and, well, why not make it into an entertaining situation?

It is  _ so _ easy to send Mammon into a frenzy, after all.

Simply taking the free spot next to you on the loveseat is enough to have Mammon come barreling over, yelling about how it was  _ his _ spot. Asmodeus ignores him, focusing instead on you. 

“Get out of my  _ seat _ , Asmo!” Mammon practically pouts, eyeing the spot that Asmo is occupying with wide-eyed want. 

“Hmhmhmmm? If it’s yours, why weren’t you here, then?” Asmodeus wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you tight against his body, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. After a moment, he slides his hand beneath the fabric.

Mammon’s eyes look ready to pop out of his skull. 

“‘Cause - ‘cause I was gonna go make -”

Poor Mammon. Can’t even finish a sentence. Asmodeus didn’t really blame him - after all, with the combined beauty of the two sitting before him, anyone could be struck dumb.

“Asmo…” You murmur, and he doesn’t miss the chastising way you say his name. Not something he likes or wants - or at least, not in this context. Plenty of time for chastising later in the privacy of his bedroom.

“Hmmm, don’t you look delicious tonight,” Asmodeus purrs, letting his tongue flick along the shell of your ear, hoping it’ll distract you from admonishing him further. He watches Mammon as he does so, the obviousness of his thoughts roiling across his face in plain view for everyone to see. It was almost embarrassing. 

Asmodeus nips at your earlobe, thinks about all the other delightful areas that he’d like to bite.

The distraction works. You flush a little bit, squirm at the attention and contact, but you don’t pull away. If anything, you shift even closer to Asmodeus while eyeing Mammon, your lips curled into a cat-like smile. 

“What kind of comment is -? Like she’s food! Who are ya - Beel?” Mammon sputters angrily, trying to force himself onto the loveseat (not that Asmodeus allows him the space). His words come out in a rush, stumbling and shoving one another. “And stop invadin’ her space like that!” 

“But you don’t mind, do you, love?” Asmodeus presses his cheek to yours, feels your soft skin warm as you blush further. 

Your hair tickles his face, and he breathes in deep - he can smell your shampoo, the powdery softness of your skin.

“No, I don’t mind.” And you grab hold of his arm, turn your face to press a kiss to his cheek. 

A bonfire alights within Asmodeus’ body, desire burning so hot and bright that he briefly worries his skin will bubble and peel from the heat of it. 

Asmodeus eyes Mammon; it’s downright comical how obvious his older brother is about his crush on you, and even more hysterical in his desperate efforts to deny it. 

“Come on, make some room! Don’t forget, I’m her first,  _ I _ should get priority seating!” Mammon growls a bit, puffing out his chest in an attempt to make himself appear more intimidating as he tries to sit down between the two of you. He fails miserably. Instead, it sends you into a fit of giggles. “Hey, hey, don’t laugh at me like that…” He deflates immediately, looking a little offended by the laughter, but nonetheless, he’s basking in your attention. He laughs too, and you reach out with a hand to ruffle his hair, fingers running through the white strands.

Mammon leans into your touch like a puppy, the annoyed look on his face melting away into a small, content smile. 

_ Don’t forget, I’m her first. _

Asmodeus feels a strange, stabbing sensation in his chest, as if his heart had become an icicle.

_ Don’t forget - _

But there was no way he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @ atroposisms


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